'Are you so ugly you have to hang pork sausages round your neck before the dog will play with you? Do you shave in the dark for fear of scaring yourself?' The website of Ugly Enterprises tells it how it is. It's a casting agency for actors of 'character', by which it means people with broken noses, bug eyes and terminal acne. Through the agency's warts-and-all handling many of these 'paper-baggers' will turn their looks - or rather lack of looks - to their own advantage.
If Ugly Enterprises were looking to branch into motoring, they'd do well to sign up Fiat's Multipla. The short, stumpy, jug-eared car has got star potential written all over it. From the front it has wide, uncomprehending eyes set over a grille so slack-jawed you almost expect it to start dribbling. From behind, it boasts the sort of rear-end that would get a shortsighted elephant excited down at the water hole. Around its middle it has a waist, of sorts, but only the sort that fat men have when they do their belts up too tightly.
But, like all of life's aesthetically challenged, the Multipla has character and charisma in spades. So much so that in the four years since it was first launched on an unsuspecting road-going public it has garnered an almost unprecedented number of awards. Its USP is its seating arrangement. It's the only car on the street that seats six adults in two rows of three. This means that unlike other MPVs, it's short - only 4m long - easy to park, easy to corner and even boasts a semi-decent boot.
The new Multipla makes a great play of its numerous safety features - crumple zones, ABS, a full set of air bags and anti-intrusion bars (which aren't pubs with a strict door policy), but its main contribution to road safety is that thanks to the three front seats, parents don't have to turn round to administer a back-seat lashing to their squabbling children. You can keep the peace with them in the front next to you. Three adults up front is sociable, to say the least, but makes you feel a bit like three builders rammed into the front of a white Transit.
The entire dashboard has been replaced with a single vast control carbuncle that contains dials, gear stick, CD player and climate controls. It's big, plasticy and clunky - it might have been made by Tonka Toys - but it's likeable in a robust, tactile way. The rest of the dash has been carpeted and filled with ingenious storage pockets. All remaining buttons and controls have been moved to the ceiling.
Two sunroofs, near-vertical windows, slim pillars and a high driving position all add to the car's feeling of light. Jaundiced babies and tomatoes would both thrive if you parked in the sun.
It comes in several packages.
I had the 1.9litre turbo-diesel, which sells for £14,495, and for that you get 0-62mph in 12.2 seconds and almost 45 miles to the gallon.
The new version of the Multipla has been given a nip and tuck which makes it less ugly and, therefore, more ordinary. Which is a mistake. As in the world of acting, if you can't be the beauty, be the beast.
